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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24298141">The Thing With Broken Clocks is</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian'>Polyhexian</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Live Every Day Like Your Mom Said it Was Alright [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Rescue Bots Academy (Cartoon)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, BIG OOF, Multi, POV Third Person, Post-Canon, Suicidal Ideation, abuse mention, deepcut idw references as usual</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 02:00:28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,003</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24298141</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Polyhexian/pseuds/Polyhexian</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>You can always tell exactly when they stopped ticking.</p><p>With people it isn't so easy.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Blades/Bumblebee (Transformers), Cyclonus/Tailgate/Whirl (Transformers), Whirl &amp; Whirl</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Live Every Day Like Your Mom Said it Was Alright [15]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1596922</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>60</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>140</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. The terrible things that happened to you didn't make you you. You always were.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"That's the last one-" said Drift, guiding the palette down to the ground where Whirl was lowering it with a crane, "Thank you so much for your help today."</p><p>"Ain't no problem," said the helicopter as the palette settled and Drift disconnected the hook, "Used to do a lot of work like this when Junior was little."</p><p>"Really?" asked Drift, tagging in the palette handtruck to roll the crate of medical supplies inside, "I wouldn't have assumed you would enjoy this kind of work."</p><p>"Oh, nah, hated it," Whirl said, transforming mid air and landing with a thump, "But it paid."</p><p>"Mm," Drift hummed, sympathetically. Whirl pushed up the grated metal loading door and Drift pulled the palette inside, "We do what we must when we must do it."</p><p>"Exactly," Whirl nodded, closing it behind them.</p><p>"You know," Drift said, locking the palette from rolling away, "Ratty always expected you to go to medical school at some point."</p><p>There was a few seconds of silence before Whirl laughed. "What? Me?"</p><p>"Yes, you," Drift opened the crate and leaned the top against the wall, "You <em> did </em> operate on Megatron once, you know."</p><p>"Well, yeah, but I had the temporal continuity on my side then, so it don't count."</p><p>"He also said you usually did your own repairs."</p><p> "I just don't like botherin' folk," Whirl huffed stubbornly. Drift gave him a lopsided smile, hand on his hip.</p><p>"Cyclonus is right, you don't know how to take a compliment," he chuckled. </p><p>Whirl crossed his arms under his cockpit, "It's just facts'n all. Point is, I just ain't the caregivin' type."</p><p>Drift's smile softened as he regarded the mech standing in the back of his medical clinic for a moment, "Where are you working right now?"</p><p>"Uh," Whirl uncrossed his arms, "I work out at Heinrad's watch shop sometimes. It ain't regular, but, it's somethin'."</p><p>"I've had my hands full since Ratchet passed," Drift said, turning away to begin unloading the crate, voice heavy, "There's been applications, certainly, but- the position is difficult to fill. It was his, for one, and for another, it's someone I'd have to work with every day. It has to be someone I can trust. I need to be careful."</p><p>"Why are you telling <em> me </em> this?" Whirl asked, uncertainly, "What do you want from me?"</p><p>Drift's hands stilled on the edge of the crate and he looked back at Whirl. "If you would consider the position, I'm willing to sponsor your education."</p><p>"What?" Whirl stared at him, winglets snapping straight back, "Why?"</p><p>"I told you why?"</p><p>"Me?" Whirl said, gesturing at himself, "Why would you trust <em> me</em>?"</p><p>"I've known you a very long time," Drift said, "And I <em> know </em> you."</p><p>"Drift, I-" Whirl's claws hovered uncertainly in front of his chest for a moment, before he shook his helm, "<em> Too </em> long. I ain't… I ain't always been a friend to you." </p><p>"The fact that even bothers you only makes me more confident I'm making the right choice."</p><p>Whirl scissored his pincers slowly, staring down at them. "I can't take your charity. Not from you."</p><p>"Do you remember the first time we met?"</p><p>Whirl looked up, straining to think back that far. "No," he admitted, "Not the first time."</p><p>"It was before I'd gotten involved with Megatron or even with bounty hunting," Drift said, looking wistful, "It was early, when I was still just a dumb kid on the streets hooked on Syk. I was in an argument with some goons from a gang I don't even recall the name of, for selling in the wrong territory, I do believe it was, and they were starting to get rough with me. One of them had me pinned to the wall and had already busted my jaw when you showed up. Beat the absolute slag out of both of them and then took all my Syk as payment." Drift laughed. "Didn't arrest me, though." </p><p>Whirl stared at the ground.</p><p>"We've both fucked up pretty badly," Drift sighed, "You know the consequences of your actions like these newsparks don't."</p><p>Whirl looked back up at him, quiet, feeling his claws scrape against each other. "You still loaded?" </p><p>"Not as much as I once was, but I am not worried about tuition fees," Drift said, "There are things money can't buy."</p><p>Whirl leaned back against the wall, still staring at his claws. "Can I think about it?"</p><p>"Of course," Drift said, "Whatever you need."</p><p>"Right," Whirl murmured, then looked up, "Thanks. Either way, thanks." </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Whirl lay back on the couch, holding Echo's hands in his claws as he sat on top of his cockpit. The sparkling was playing with his pincers, opening and closing then and staring intently at the mechanisms that made them work with narrowed optics. </p><p>"So, tyke," Whirl asked, "What do you wanna be when you grow up, huh?" </p><p>"Firefighter," he said immediately. </p><p>"What do you wanna be that for?"</p><p>"Because firefighters are cool!" he said, pulling Whirl's claw all the way open, "Like Hoseman. He's really cool."</p><p>"You do love Hoseman, don't you?" Whirl cooed. Hoseman was Echo's favourite cartoon character, a firefighter bot who lived near an active volcano. Whirl liked that show because Hoseman didn't have a rescue altmode, he was a jet, but he was a firefighter anyway. Their floor was littered with Hoseman playsets and action figures.</p><p>"He's the best!" Echo cheered, "I'm gonna be just like him."</p><p>"You can be whatever you want, cutiebot," Whirl said, leaning forward and scooping up Echo to nuzzle little static kisses all over his faceplate while he squealed in delight, kicking his little legs wildly.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>"Blades?" Whirl asked, hesitant. His comm spit distance static for a moment before his call was picked up.</p><p>"Oh, hello again, Whirl! How are you today?"</p><p>"Good, good!" I was just wondering, you know, if it ain't too much trouble- one of Whirligirl's little brothers really wants to be a firefighter right now, and I wondered if maybe we could drop by for a visit. On a day you ain't busy or anything."</p><p>"How cute!" Blades said, "I don't see why not! You know, Whirl is getting placed soon."</p><p>"I know," Whirl said, though his voice immediately sounded more strained. </p><p>"Concerned?"</p><p>"Always," Whirl laughed nervously.</p><p>"She will be alright. She's very resilient. She's going to do so much in helping our relationship with humans, you know."</p><p>"I know," Whirl sighed, "Hope she don't end up in the boonies, at least."</p><p>"Well, with graduation having just passed things are pretty calm here," Blades mused, "Why don't you bring both the little ones? They're about the same age as Evac, now. He doesn't get nearly as many playdates as I would like."</p><p>"Oh, you and Bumblebee picked up a little one of your own?" Whirl chuckled, "I hadn't heard."</p><p>"We did!" Blades said proudly, "He's a flier, bless his spark. He lives to torment poor Bee."</p><p>"Him'n Tailgate can commiserate together. How's about Saturday, then, eh?" </p><p>"Saturday it is!"</p><p>"See you then, Blades."</p><p>"See you then, Whirl."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>"You think I'm bein' dumb for hesitatin'?" Whirl sighed, stirring his drink idly with an ornate straw. </p><p>"Wazzpinator think friend-Whirl very reazzonable to take time to think over big life change," Waspinator nodded, shaking a mixer.</p><p>"You've said point blank you think I oughta be doctorin'."</p><p>"Wazzpinator zztill do!" Waspinator poured the mixer over some liquid nitrogen in a glass, "Wazzpinator juzzt not think ruzzh dezzizzionzz are indicative of a healthy mindzzet."</p><p>"Hrrm," Whirl hummed, "I guess I'm just worried I'll fuck up and flunk out."</p><p>"Zzo?" Waspinator shrugged, passing the drink to Warwolf, "Then Whirl flunkzz out, but at leazzt he tried." </p><p>Whirl took another sip of his drink. "I guess."</p><p>"Let Wazzpinator phrazze thizz way then," Waspinator said, leaning back, "Which will Whirl regret not doing more?" </p><p>Whirl considered this for a moment, watching his drink swirl, colours mixing together, before he nodded, "I'm gonna go call Drift."</p><p>"Hooray!" cheered Waspinator, clapping his claws together excitedly, "Hooray for friend doctor Whirl!"</p><p>"I ain't a doctor yet, Waspinator," Whirl chuckled, standing up from his seat.</p><p>"Yet!" Waspinator reminded him with a four way grin.</p><p>"Yet," Whirl repeated with a chuckle.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Whirl stepped through the spacebridge, Echo sitting primly in his open cockpit, hands on the wheel as if he could steer the larger bot. </p><p>"Well hey there, cutiebot!" Blades cooed.</p><p>"Hiya!" Echo cheered, waving with both hands.</p><p>"Just the two of you, then?" Bumblebee asked, one hand on the space bridge controls.</p><p>"Yup!" Whirl nodded, "Cyc and Tailgate took Reverb out to meet the garbage collectors today. We figure it's good for them to do things separately sometimes so they don't get codependent or nothin'."</p><p>"Very sound reasoning," Blades nodded.</p><p>"Evac, why don't you say hi?" Bumblebee said, shutting down the bridge. The tiny yellow helicopter clung to Blades' leg, hiding behind him and looking up at the stranger with big, nervous blue optics.</p><p>"He's a little shy," Blades explained, "I think I might have left Cybertron too early, he hasn't met as many people by now as I'd like." </p><p>"Aw, what, you're scared of little ol' me?" Whirl chuckled, fluttering his winglets innocently. He bent down to plop Echo on the floor, his pedes wiggling to run off already. "I'm a big teddy bear. Here, Echo, show him. Gimme a right hook." </p><p>Echo put up his dukes very dramatically, sticking his tongue out to the side, hopping from foot to foot, before he mimed socking Whirl in the helm, tiny fist giving a tiny tap against the metal. </p><p>"Agh!" Whirl hollered, falling over and collapsing, "I'm defeated again!"</p><p>Evac giggled. "No, you're not! He barely even touched you!"</p><p>"No, I'm a goner," Whirl asserted, lolling his head to the side, "I won't last the night." </p><p>"It's okay," said Echo, triumphantly, "He gets all better when you say the magic word."</p><p>"What's the magic word?" Evac asked, leaning out from behind Blades.</p><p>"It's cu-"</p><p>"Cuddles!" Whirl yelled, snapping up to grab Echo and immediately scoop him into a hug, which made him giggle deliriously. Whirl crossed his legs where he sat and tapped the top of Echo's helm with the bottom of his own, a little kiss before setting him back on the floor.</p><p>"Do you like Hoseman?" Echo asked.</p><p>"Yeah!" said Evac, fully exiting his mentor's protection zone, "You wanna see my action figures!"</p><p>"Yeah!" Echo exclaimed, and just like that, the sparklings bolted for the door, Blades giving frantic chase. </p><p>Bumblebee trotted over and offered Whirl a hand to stand up. "You're better with kids than I would have expected," he chuckled. </p><p>"Change is in our nature, as they say," Whirl grunted, taking his hand and pulling himself up. </p><p>"Still. Blades has never seen you shoot an Ammonite's head off from thirty paces. I have."</p><p>"<em>I've </em> only seen <em> you </em> do it at twenty," Whirl chuckled, heading for the hallway the children had run down.</p><p>"Maybe keep your optic open next time, then, huh?" Bumblebee snorted, following along.</p><p>The kids had found Evac's room and were excitedly chittering about their favorite Hoseman characters. Blades leaned against the doorframe, watching with a smile. </p><p>"Why don't you go say hi to Whirl?" Blades suggested, "I'll watch them for a bit, and then we can go say hi to Heatwave."</p><p>"Thanks," Whirl said, beaming in body language alone, quickly trotting off down the corridor to the dorms. </p><p>Little Whirl's door was propped open, her room a mess of boxes, but she was sitting at her desk with a paperback book, the kind humans read. Whirl Sr squinted at the cover for a moment. He wasn't so familiar with human's written languages, especially the ones that didn't have too much contact with the Cybes in the past, but he managed to get the characters cross referenced as <em> Kitchen </em> by Banana Kishimoto before his daughter looked up.</p><p>"Dad!" she cried, startled, blinking, before she fumbled to dog ear her book and slide it onto her desk, running to get a bear hug. "What are you doing here!"</p><p>"Stopped by for a playdate with your teacher's kid!" he told her, giving her one last squeeze before he set her back down, "Figured I'd surprise ya."</p><p>"Well, you sure did!" She laughed, "Did you bring the twins?"</p><p>"Just Echo."</p><p>"He does want to be a firefighter right now," she smiled, "Maybe you'll turn out a whole rescue team at this rate."</p><p>"I gotta make up for all the hell I've raised somehow, huh!" the old soldier laughed. "You know where they're placing you yet?" </p><p>"Japan, I think, though it's not confirmed yet," she told him. </p><p>"Japan, Japan, where's that? Is that a big one?" He asked, rapping the bottom of his helm with his claw as he pulled up a map of Earth in a holo and flicked around it, searching.</p><p>"Nah, it's really tiny," she said, leaning over to shoo his hands from the holo display and move it to show Japan, "That's it."</p><p>"Itty bitty," he commented, zooming in and inspecting the little country on the screen, "Figured they'd send you somewhere real important!"</p><p>"Everywhere is important for rescue work," she smiled, "But, even though it's small, it does majorly engage in the global economy. More than lots of bigger countries, even!"</p><p>"How strange," he said, saving the location details and putting in a tab on his to do list to read up on this 'Japan' later, "Well, as long as you're excited!"</p><p>"Totally am," she nodded, "Come on, I'm not doing anything else, I'll come hang out with the dads for the day."</p><p>"Aw, you got such a soft spot for your old man," he teased, as she shut her door and locked it, "You spoil me."</p><p>"I do," she agreed primly.</p><p>The boys were fluttering about the ceiling when they returned, playing some sort of game, but Echo zoomed over to his sister he noticed her, transforming mid air to make her catch him.</p><p>"Hey there, kiddo!" she laughed, giving him a nuzzle that made him giggle wildly, "Been awhile since I seen you! Look how big you are!"</p><p>"I'm gonna be as big as dad," he said, "and carry Tailgate on my shoulders!"</p><p>"Most definitely," she nodded, setting him back on the floor, "You can carry me around, too."</p><p>"At the same time!" Echo threw his hands in the air, miming holding two smaller bots in each arm. "Can I meet Heatwave now?"</p><p>"Actually," said Blades, who appeared to be pretending to be distinctly less unhappy than he clearly was, "Uncle Heatwave isn't here today. We can go see the Earth fire trucks, though?"</p><p>"He isn't here?" Whirl Sr said, antennae rising, "He knew we was coming, why is-" </p><p>He cut off abruptly and Little Whirl frowned, watching his optic track back and forth, telltale sign of private text comming. She looked back over at her teacher, and Blades was obviously talking to him about something she wasn't supposed to hear.</p><p>"Oh," said Echo, deflating, "I guess."</p><p>Little Whirl resisted the urge to scowl at them both for leaving her out and for making her little brother make that sad noise, but instead, she tugged up the corners of her mouth, smiled stubbornly, and put her hands on her hips, swivelling back around toward him.</p><p>"What, you don't want to see a fire truck built by <em> aliens?" </em> She gasped.</p><p>Echo shifted on his pedes, looking a little less downcast, "Well… is it cool?" </p><p>"Is it <em> cool,</em>" she scoffed, "<em>I </em> can get small enough to <em> drive </em> it, you know. You wanna help me do laps around the course out back?"</p><p>That got his attention, and he bounced on his heels, excited again, "Yeah!"</p><p>"Come on, then, let's go check out that alien truck," her father laughed, but she knew him well enough to hear the falter in his voice. He had the oldest and shittiest synthesizer on the market and even that couldn't hide how clearly shaken he was. She lingered behind while Bumblebee led Whirl and the boys out back. </p><p>"Professor," she asked, "Where's Heatwave really?"</p><p>Blades flattened his lips and looked away with a sigh, visibly frustrated and seemingly debating on answering at all, "He said he didn't realize he was coming unsupervised."</p><p>"That's so unfair," she murmured, "He said he would come. For Echo, at least."</p><p>"Yes, well," Blades shook his head, "he's coming from… a difficult position."</p><p>"I don't understand how," she pushed, her hands in fists at her sides, "He never even met my dad before I went to school here. I don't understand why he hates him so much."</p><p>Blades looked down at her, eyebrows knitted together, "We were pretty lucky to miss the war," he said, carefully, "But it did still happen. Heatwave has his reasons. Your father… well, you know. People can change."</p><p>"What is that supposed to mean?"</p><p>"It means- it only means that sometimes an apology isn't enough, and there's nothing to be done about it," he shook his head, "Come on, let's not leave them waiting."</p><p>She considered pushing the issue further, saying something more, but she didn't want to keep them waiting either and bit her tongue, adding <em> talk to Heatwave </em> to her to do list.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>"Professor," Whirl said, as the doors to Heatwave's office slid apart, "Can I speak with you?"</p><p>Heatwave looked up at her and his expression soured, "Yes, Whirl, come in. And- you don't need to call me Professor anymore. You're a fully certified Rescue Bot now."</p><p>She stepped inside and let the door close behind her, "I don't need permission to speak freely, then?"</p><p>He sighed, folded his hands on his desk and nodded, "Go ahead."</p><p>"That was unfair," she said, balling her hands into fists, "My dad's a good person. I <em> know </em> he hasn't always been, but he's doing his best and you <em> said </em> you would come. That was not fair."</p><p>"You're right," Heatwave said carefully, "That he hasn't always been. And you're right that… he does seem to be- less bad than he once may have been, but…" Heatwave leaned forward in his desk, carding his servos together, choosing his words cautiously, "He is not a <em> good </em> person."</p><p>Whirl bristled, desperately trying not to do so literally, but she couldn't ignore how hurt she felt that he would say such a thing to her face. </p><p>"Fine," she said, after a long, tense moment, "If that's how it is, that's how it is." She turned to leave briskly.</p><p>"Whirl, wait!" She turned back as he started to stand and then collapsed back in his chair, running his servos over his helm with a groan, "I am trying to be delicate. Whatever I think of him, it doesn't reflect on you."</p><p>"It should," she said, "He raised me."</p><p>"I don't think you <em> understand.</em>"</p><p>"Understand what?"</p><p>Heatwave paused, helm still in his hands before he sat back up, looking tired, and pinged her a datapacket.</p><p>"There," he said, with an air of finality, "That's his Autopedia page from before it got purged, plus a letter from Rotorstorm."</p><p>Whirl stared at the file download readout in her HUD, feeling suddenly anxious, "Is it really that bad?" She asked, hesitating. </p><p>Heatwave didn't respond. </p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Whirl was lying on the floor with his pedes kicked over the back of the couch while Reverb gnawed on one of his shin's absently. He had a datapad held aloft in front of him when Cyclonus opened the front door.</p><p>"Did you need any help?" The jet asked, eyeing the little purple quadcopter that was teething like it was going out of style.</p><p>"Nah, he's good," Whirl said, without looking away from his datapad. </p><p>"What are you reading?" Cyclonus asked, crossing the room to grab a cube of energon from the kitchen.</p><p>"I'm brushin' up on ol' education program stuff," Whirl answered, "I got a pretty good in at that school Drift sent me over to, but I still gotta pass an entrance exam." He fumbled and sat up awkwardly, trying not to move the leg that was being nibbled, "Did you know Ratch wrote me a letter of recommendation? Like, <em> years </em> ago. I was in jail, then!"</p><p>"He had faith in you," Cyclonus said, lips twitching near a smile, "I'm sure you'll pass your exam."</p><p>"Heh, sure enough for both of us?" Whirl snickered, flopping back down.</p><p>"Only if you need me to be," he said, grabbing an extra cube and bringing it to his Conjunx on the floor.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Whirl sat anxiously outside of the exam room, waiting for the results to populate on the monitor. He was hardly the only one, though there weren't too many others here. He was without a doubt the oldest, and distinctly felt out of place in the room full of post-war mechs. He definitely felt rustier than they were. It had been four million years since <em> his </em> basic education, and <em> th </em>at had been almost entirely based in instruction designed to fast track him to the aerial corps in the first place. He felt way out of his depth.</p><p>The front monitor lit up blue and filled with white text. He waited for the quick rush of the crowd to fill in and then disperse before he pushed himself off the edge of the fountain he was sitting on and approached the screen to learn his fate.</p><p>[Whirl of Polyhex: Passed]</p><p>Whirl straightened, staring at the screen as if he expected it to correct itself of an obvious glitch, to change its mind and remind him he'd never been good at anything in his life besides destruction, but the words stayed. He took a picture, and then a second one just in case he lost the first one, and scooted out of the way. </p><p>The first person he commed was his daughter. Whirl fidgeted, pacing back and forth and scissoring his claws together waiting for her to answer, but she failed to pick up, and he assumed she must be busy with her Japan move and commed Cyclonus instead.</p><p>"Congratulations you cynical son of a gun," he tittered, "You're married to a med student!"</p><p>"You passed?" Cyclonus responded, "Congratulations!" </p><p>"I'm in! I'm actually doing this. How mad is it? I'm going to walk into class the first day and someone's going to rip off one of my legs, I just know it. I can't believe this."</p><p>"Whirl," Cyclonus chuckled, "Why would someone do that?"</p><p>"I don't even know!" Whirl exclaimed, "I'm off my slag! I'm losing it! I'm in! I'm actually for real in!" </p><p>"Knew you would," Cyclonus said, sounding disgustingly tender, "Come home. We're going out to celebrate."</p><p>"We're getting the fancy shit tonight!" Whirl cried, "The most comically expensive slag you can buy me!"</p><p>"Whatever you'd like, love."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Whirl had Echo and Reverb in his lap, finally calm enough to watch an episode of Hoseman in silence while he played with an editing program on a datapad, colour changing a photo of himself. He flicked one claw across the screen, grabbing a colour picker. </p><p>"Considering a repaint?" Cyclonus asked behind him, leaning on the back of the couch to rest his arms around Whirl's neck.</p><p>"Mmmmaybe," Whirl said, considering tabbing away, a bit embarrassed, but left it up anyway, "What do you think?"</p><p>"I think they're nice colours. You would look good in them."</p><p>"Hm," Whirl hummed in acknowledgement, "I know it's not like, required or nothing, but like. Red and white, you know, medics, and all that. Seems appropriate." </p><p>"Could be good for you," Cyclonus nodded, pressing a kiss to the side of Whirl's helm, "You've been blue for a terrifically long time. Perhaps it will improve your self image." </p><p>"Wouldn't that be nice," Whirl murmured, studying his work again, "I can always change it back if I hate it, anyway."</p><p>"You certainly can," Cyclonus confirmed, and then turned his attention to the twins who were looking up at him curiously, "Dad is thinking about changing his paintjob. What do you think, little ones?"</p><p>Whirl tilted the screen down so that the kids could peak their optics up at it.</p><p>"Pretty," said Echo.</p><p>"Did you know human blood is red?" said Reverb.</p><p>"Who even told you that?" Whirl said, shaking his helm.</p><p>"Why don't you send a copy to little Whirl and ask what she thinks?" Cyclonus suggested, "I haven't heard you call her in a few days."</p><p>"Great idea!" Whirl agreed, saving his work.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Whirl shut the door behind him, stretching and sighing. Done with classes early for the day, he didn't have much else to do. Waspinator wouldn't be dropping the twins off for another hour, and his Conjunxes wouldn't be home for another hour after that. He eyed his old easel outside and considered making another terrible painting, but he flipped his comm on instead and checked the Earth timezones to see if Junior would still be on duty at this hour. </p><p>Deciding it was, in fact, an appropriate local time to bother the daughter he hadn't heard from in far too many days, he gave her a buzz as he headed up the stairs, maybe to fiddle with a clock Heinrad had given him to see if he could fix. </p><p>"Dad," the voice on the line said, and Whirl brightened.</p><p>"Heya, kiddo! It's been like a whole week since I heard from ya, how have ya been?" </p><p>"Fine," she said.</p><p>Whirl blinked and paused in the hallway outside his room. "Is something wrong?"</p><p>"I just don't know if I want to talk to you right now."</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Heatwave sent me your old Autopedia page," she said, voice terse, "I knew a lot of this, but not… not all of it."</p><p>"...Oh," he said, after a moment.</p><p>"I always thought you were… I thought the war made you like this," she said, finally, "but you- you <em> beat prisoners </em> , Dad, <em> before </em> the war."</p><p>"Oh," he said again, putting a claw on the wall.</p><p>"There's a letter from Rotorstorm in here, too, and he says that you-"</p><p>"Stop," he wheezed, voice hoarse, strained through static, "I know what he said."</p><p>"...Is it true?"</p><p>Whirl stared at the floor even as it began to spin, push pull in and out of his vision, depth perception failing as everything tightened like a coil, "Yeah."</p><p>"...I just think I want some time to… really think about all this. I'll talk to you again. I will. But not right now. Sorry, dad." </p><p>The line clicked off.</p><p>Whirl stared at the ground and the ground stared back, and he felt the arm he was leaning on the wall with begin to tremble, suddenly feeling like the air around him was heavy. His first thought was to bolt back to the rust sea, but instead he opened his comm again.</p><p>"Hey, Whirlibird, I'm in the middle of something, unfortunately, I can't really talk right n-" Tailgate began to apologize, and Whirl could hear others in the background.</p><p>"I need-" he wheezed, "What's the word, the earth word, the one for- the one. The word."</p><p>"The word?" Tailgate repeated, confused, "What word?"</p><p>"The unsexy safeword," he said, his knees buckling under him and letting him sink to the floor, still leaning against the wall, "the 'I really really need you to stop doing whatever you're doing and come here right now' word."</p><p>"Baseball?" Tailgate asked, a weird Earth term Whirl didn't even know the definition of.</p><p>"That one," he said, "Baseball."</p><p>"Oh. Oh, oh, Whirl, okay, hang on, I'll be right there- I'll call Cyclonus first, he can be there sooner- I'm so proud of you for calling, just hang on, okay?"</p><p>"Okay," he choked weakly, and cut the line, letting the weight of the world on him push him back down, closing his optic against the spinning as it took over his vision. </p><p>He was still sitting on the floor in the hallway when the door opened downstairs and Cyclonus called his name.</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Judge if you want. We are all going to die. I intend to deserve it.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"No, he's still… unwell," Cyclonus finished lamely, "Please pass on my regards."</p><p>"Of course," Drift said on the other end of the line. Cyclonus was certain Drift could cut through to the quick of what he meant, though he didn't point it out, "Tell him I am praying for him."</p><p>"Thank you," said Cyclonus, "I will."</p><p>"Goodbye."</p><p>"Goodbye, Drift."</p><p>"I don't like this," Tailgate sighed, leaning back against Cyclonus's chest wearily, "it's been so long since he's gotten this way I forgot how bad it could be."</p><p>Cyclonus hummed in agreement and pulled the minibot closer in his lap. "It's been awhile since his last spiral."</p><p>"Should we call her, do you think?"</p><p>"Perhaps. For now, it's better to let her have her space and come to us when she's ready," Cyclonus murmured, "It must be painful for a child to realize difficult truths about a parent."</p><p>Tailgate let his helm rest against his Conjunx's arm, feeling his vents cycles in his chest, "Do you think we'll have this moment again? With Echo and Reverb?" </p><p>"One day they will learn who their mentors are," said Cyclonus softly, "Him and I both."</p><p>Tailgate was quiet for a moment, "I suppose being a good parent, a good mentor, isn't enough on its own."</p><p>"A day we will face when we reach it," said Cyclonus, "Today, they're sleeping soundly in the other room, and they barely comprehend the concepts of war and state sanctioned violence. Today will have to be today, and tomorrow, tomorrow."</p><p>Tailgate sighed and shifted, pulling away to slide to the ground, "I'm going to go see if Whirl is willing to eat anything."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Whirl sat under on the floor of the washracks and let solvent flow over him, too hot on his armor. It hurt, but it wasn't damaging, and it eased the urge to seek self destruction in other places.</p><p>He hadn't been out of bed in a week. He felt like he should have had some kind of epiphany with so much time to wallow in his misery and dwell on his predicament, but mostly he had just slept and tried not to think about anything at all. He'd read the Earth book Junior had been reading, <em> Kitchen</em>, though that hadn't made him feel much better either. All he could think about was how the entire story hinged on the protagonist's grief over her grandmother's death, and how maybe if she hasn't been so close to her she could have been spared that pain. </p><p>Junior hadn't called. </p><p>Whirl turned off the water. It was time to go back to school. Life goes on, unfortunately, even when you've done things you'd rather not live with. He'd conned too many people into being invested in his wellbeing to traumatize them any further by dying just because he wanted to.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Whirl had his head in his arms on the bar. The hustle and bustle and noise around him was comforting, he'd been stuck at home alone for too long and he missed being around people, even if he didn't want to talk to any of them. </p><p>"Doezz Whirl want another?" Waspinator asked gently, prodding one of his arms. Whirl looked up blearily and considered his drink. Sweet, but not the bitter brew he wanted. He missed drinking. </p><p>"No," he sighed, "Sorry."</p><p>"Whirl doezz not need to apologizze," said Waspinator, plucking the empty glass off the bar, "Friend-Whirl alwayzz welcome in Wazzpinator bar, drink or no drink."</p><p>"Thanks, buddy," Whirl mumbled, putting his head back down, "I need another drink like I need a hole in the head. I'm already flounderin' tryin' to keep up with stuff too complex for my peanut brain as it is, and now I'm doing backwork. I've fucked myself over hard."</p><p>"Hazz Whirl conzzidered tutoring?" Waspinator suggested, "Izz Drift-friend helping?"</p><p>"I don't wanna ask him for help, he's already out on a limb putting me up for school in the first place," Whirl shook his head.</p><p>"Hrrm," buzzed Waspinator, "Wazzpinator will play Cybertronian phone tag and get back to you." Waspinator touched his comm on the side of his helm, stepping away.</p><p>"Thanks, man," Whirl mumbled, setting his head back down.</p><p>"What's wrong with you, then?" said a familiar voice, and Whirl flipped his head over to watch Sandstorm flop down into his usual seat. Waspinator already had a comically oversized tankard ready for him.</p><p>"My kid found out about my pre-war record," Whirl rasped, "She don't wanna talk to me no more."</p><p>"Hrm," Sandstorm said helpfully, grabbing his drink and chugging, "That'll fuck you up, for sure."</p><p>"Guess maybe I'm grateful everyone and their mentor knows what I've done," Whirl muttered, turning to face forward and stare at the labels on the bottles behind the bar, "I ain't used to havin' people have any respect for me lose it."</p><p>"I've killed worse mechs than you," Sandstorm grunted, "<em>You've </em> killed worse mechs than you."</p><p>"I dunno, Sandy," Whirl sighed, "I ain't been a good bot."</p><p>"Don't patronize yourself," Sandstorm took another drink, "We've both known folk who've gleefully eradicated entire civilizations of intelligent life. You were a dirty cop during the clampdown. They don't even compare."</p><p>Whirl was silent for a bit. "Guess I can't argue with that. Don't figure it's a competition, though."</p><p>"Hmph," he leaned back in his stool, "Think she's gonna come around?"</p><p>"Dunno. Maybe," Whirl picked his helm up, setting it in his claws and heaving a sigh, "I think this might be the worst thing that's ever happened to me. I feel like I'd rather lose my hands again than lose my girl."</p><p>Sandstorm cut him a curious glance, "Does she even know what empurata is?"</p><p>"Fuck no," Whirl said sharply, looking up, "Are you kidding? She don't need to know about that."</p><p>"Of course she does," Sandstorm sniffed, "You think it's fair for her to know you worked for the Senate and not that the Senate mutilated you first?"</p><p>"I ain't tainting her worldview any worse than it already is by telling her <em> how bad </em> the world's really been," he scoffed, "She don't need that."</p><p>"Seems unfair to me," the old wrecker shrugged, "You trying to protect her from reality. Not like she won't hear about it eventually. Oughtta be from you."</p><p>"I don't want to give her excuses, boohoo, poor Whirligirl, sorry you had to find out your old man is literally your moral antithesis but like did you know that I was real sad at the time?" </p><p>"Don't give me that bull," Sandstorm pointed at him, dragging his glass across the bar with a pointed stare, "I was forged pre-war. You can't spin that slag at me. I was there. I saw it. I remember what it was like. I was a Decepticon sympathizer in the early days, you think I wasn't scared of the Senate and what they might do to me? I remember." He took a drink.</p><p>Whirl set his helm back on his arms. "I should go home," he said, eventually, "It's gettin' late."</p><p>"Early for me," Sandstorm lamented, "happy for you cleaning up your act and whatever, still miss bein' a couple of miserable drunks with you." </p><p>"You can be a miserable drunk with someone else."</p><p>"Who's gonna drink with Sandstorm the serial killer," Sandstorm muttered, staring at his mug, "Other than Whirl the war starter?" </p><p>Whirl was quiet, "You need a hobby, man."</p><p>"Probably," said Sandstorm, setting his own head down in his arms, one hand still on his drink. Whirl took that as his cue to go. </p><p>Whirl leaned back against the wall outside, wondering if he should go home at all. Something deep in his core was aching for the rust wastes and it was getting harder and harder to ignore that part. He looked up at the other bars along the strip, ones who's bartenders were actually willing to serve him engex. He opened his comm.</p><p>"Hey," he said.</p><p>"Hey, Whirl," said Drift. "What do you need?"</p><p>"I need to fall of the wagon," he said, pushing himself off the wall, "And I need a friend."</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>Whirl passed Drift the bottle, leaning forward onto his knees.</p><p>"I don't know what I'm gonna tell her," he sighed, watching the sun set across Rodion's shimmering skyline, "Ain't nothin' I can say that don't sound like an excuse."</p><p>Drift swished the bottle around, watching the engex swirl, reflecting the red-orange light on the ripples, "The truth is not an excuse. It's only the truth." </p><p>"She thinks I'm a better mech than I am," Whirl said, "I can tell her I regret a lot of shit I did and that's the truth, but- how am I supposed to say I feel <em> bad </em> for what I did to Megatron?" Whirl laughed, "Mech's a mass murderer. I'm still petty about gettin' lumped into the 'friends with Megatron' crowd."</p><p>"Fair enough," Drift took a swig and passed the bottle back, "But he wasn't a mass murderer then."</p><p>"No, but the Whirl I was before Megatron was a mass murderer wouldn't have given a scrap," Whirl took the bottle, "and the Whirl after that wouldn't have done it. Hard to consolidate 'em together." </p><p>"Mm," Drift hummed thoughtfully, leaning back. The roof of the clinic was fairly sheltered from the back, set into a row of apartment blocks, it was just a route to make deliveries and pick up trash on this side. "People often tell me how different I am from who I once was. I don't feel like I've changed all that much, though I don't think I fight them on it." </p><p>Whirl took a drink and set the bottle in his lap. "I don't even recognize that guy anymore. I've always been angry, but that was a different kind of angry. I look back a lot and wonder why the frag I was so scared of the Senate. I mean, besides the obvious, but that had already happened. What were they gonna do, cut my face off <em>again</em>? Why did I work for them for so long? I could have just ditched this stupid planet, it's not like I didn't know the right folk to get me a ride off world." He paused, handed the bottle back. "Maybe I just wanted everybody else as miserable as I was."</p><p>"Didn't we all," Drift murmured, "and… Rotorstorm?"</p><p>Whirl visibly flinched, clenching his claws around the neck of the bottle, "Yeah. I feel bad about that one."</p><p>"So what happened with him?" Drift asked, gesturing for him to pass the bottle back, "That was way before I was an Autobot."</p><p>Whirl passed it back and stared down at the street below. "I was a teacher at the Iacon Aerial Academy for a hot minute. Early war stuff. I got out of prison for the Megatron thing and Optimus hit me up, asking- <em> telling </em> me to join the Autobots. Didn't have much of a choice. It was that or wait for you guys to come get me."</p><p>"We were certainly trying," Drift nodded.</p><p>"Boy did I hate them," Whirl laughed, cynically, "the Senate, the council, Optimus, the Autobots. I figured maybe I could change my name, upgrade my frame, be someone else for awhile. Maybe other people would hate me less. Maybe I'd hate me less." Whirl sat back and watched the sun begin to dip out of sight, the sky begin to darken, "But wherever you go, there you are. No escape."</p><p>"You were still angry."</p><p>"Still angry. Hated the job. Only legit work I could get, based on my alt mode, obviously. And then he showed up in one of my classes and he was good at everything he did. So excited to rise above his station. Prove he was more than his alt mode. And they were gonna let him. For sure. He was gonna ride on up in ranks and be somebody." Whirl stared off into the distance, optics seeing something Drift could not. "I hated him."</p><p>"Did you kill him?" Drift inquired and Whirl swivelled his head toward him.</p><p>"Huh? No. No, Overlord killed him. Way later. Years later. No, I just beat the slag out of him every time he pissed me off until he wished he was dead." </p><p>There was a moment of heavy silence. Drift took a swig from the bottle, finishing its contents, and leaned up, throwing it up and away as hard as he could. "Mark."</p><p>Whirl took a potshot at it, and the bottle burst when it was struck, shattering into pieces that tinkled down into the street below.</p><p>"Nice shot."</p><p>"Thanks."</p><p>"Didn't get in trouble for that, then?" Drift asked.</p><p>"Nah. I dipped while he was in a CR chamber. He never reported me."</p><p>"Why?"</p><p>"I don't know. He never told me." Whirl leaned back and kicked his legs over the side, "Honestly, I don't… think he ever realized who I was."</p><p>"Hm?" Drift queried, frowning.</p><p>"When I was working at the IAA I went by <em> Jetstream </em>," Whirl explained, "Like. Jet. Helicopters don't get named Jetstream."</p><p>"Ah!" Drift said, "You changed your alt mode."</p><p>"Yeah," Whirl confirmed, "But it sucked. I hated it. It was all wrong. I went back to my old name, and a new copter frame after that. He joined the Wreckers way after I did. Never saw him, though, he was only a Wrecker all of five seconds before Overlord blew his brains out. But I mean, he knew the roster. I was still on it. He joined up anyway, though, like he didn't even know who I was."</p><p>"He weighs on your conscience," Drift stated.</p><p>"He shouldn't have been there in <em> the first place</em>," Whirl snarled, "Springer knocked me off the Garrus-9 mission and replaced me with <em> him</em>. All because I didn't pussyfoot around with Impactor and Squadron X. Impactor was right to do what he done when he done it and Springer never forgave me for doin' nothin about it. He never forgave me for bein' more bitter than he was. But it should have been <em> me</em>. I was <em> held </em> in Garrus-9. I knew the layout. I knew the guards. That mission was <em> mine</em>." Whirl was panting, his claws gripped together like a vice, crumpling beneath the force, "And he benched me and sent in a stupid newbie instead, and he was the first Primus damned casualty. It should have been me."</p><p>Drift watched him with steady optics, quietly thoughtful while Whirl recomposed himself, pulling his legs back in. "It wasn't you, though." </p><p>"No," said Whirl, "It wasn't." </p><p>"None of us ever get what we deserve in this world or any other," Drift murmured, "Not you, not me, not Rotorstorm, not Gasket, and certainly not Megatron."</p><p>Whirl leaned forward on one of his bent knees, folding his arms across it. "I'm starting to wonder if I was bein' selfish… havin' kids and all. I'm gonna disappoint them, too, someday. More than that… I dunno. Wars over. Sparklings deserve to grow up in a kinder world than their parents. I feel like I've robbed them of that right, just by proximity."</p><p>"It's the same feelings, I think…" said Drift, softly, looking out at the stars as they blinked into twilight vision, "That always held me and Ratty back from mentoring. I… regret that."</p><p>Whirl looked up at him.</p><p>Drift continued, "I wish… I had faced those fears in time. I wish we had done it. I would like… someone else who remembers him, like I did. I ran out of time, though."</p><p>"Drift…"</p><p>"Treasure the time you have. Don't waste it wallowing. They'll grow up soon, and learn who all of us are," Drift softened his optics, turning toward his drinking buddy, "And if you've done a good enough job raising them to be better than we were, they'll forgive you."</p><p>Whirl was silent, holding the thought, before he nodded, solemnly. </p><p>"Till all are one, huh," he murmured.</p><p>"Till all are one," Drift agreed.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. I found a way to make your cellphone love you. There's a secret code you punch in and it calls your mom.</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Whirl sat cross legged on her berth, leaning back against the wall. The datapad in her hands was running low on battery, but she didn't feel particularly motivated to change it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked at the picture she had pulled up, one taken when she was much younger by her uncle Brainstorm. She was much smaller, using a totally different alt mode at the time, but she was sitting on her dad's shoulders and waving at the camera. It had been a nice day out, alt mode shopping with them while they both tried to sell her on flight alts. She smiled remembering how the two of them had debated on breaking into an off-limits compound to access a space shuttle for her to scan. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She flicked the image away and reopened his Autopedia entry, her smile fading. She had nanites older than her combined form, obviously, but none as old as the Cybe's war. She could pull up scattered video files from individual units, decontextualized, short bursts, low resolution and laced with static of a few war time scenes here and there, but they were few and far between. She didn't know what war was like and she really didn't want to know. All she knew was that every mech she knew that lived through the war was batshit insane, so obviously, war sucked. She had a lot of leeway to give all the old war mechs for being off their rockers. She knew people did bad things during war they lived to regret. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was having a lot more difficulty internalizing what her father had done during peace time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Killing, she understood. She was a carnivore and she accepted that living things must kill to survive at times. An unfortunate reality. Killing didn't bother her as much as she suspected it should, but this wasn't killing. This was brutality. This was cruel. This was out of character for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was it, really? She'd seen him get into more than his share of fights. She'd seen his temper, how easily he could snap and just throw himself on someone, punching and kicking and screaming. She'd always thought he was in the right, heroic, almost, but suddenly, it kind of sickened her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She'd never heard anyone accuse him of starting the war. Not once. Not even hushed under their breath, but the article was quite condemning in pointing to her father nearly beating the future warlord to death as a motivation for escalation of the Decepticon movement to violence. Was this why people were so afraid of him? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Twice voted most likely to defect. She touched her Autobrand on her chest gently, fingers running across it's ridges and memorizing its shape, feeling something heavy in her throat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No wonder he didn't want her to be a police officer. This is what he thought police officers did. Is this what he thought she would do, what he thought she would see her co-workers do? Did he have so little faith in her? Would he just </span>
  <em>
    <span>let</span>
  </em>
  <span> her engage in something like that?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She shut off the datapad with a grimace, feeling angry, and shoved herself onto the ground, moving to her desk to plug in the datapad before it turned off. The screen lit up, the photo she had been looking at earlier blinking back on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you settling in alright, Whirl?" asked a voice behind her, and she turned to the door, looking down at the human woman leaning against the doorframe. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah- yes, Miko, thank you," said Whirl, shaking her head, "I'm still unpacking."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Is that you?" Miko asked, pointing to the datapad. Whirl looked down at it, checked the battery, and then handed it to the human.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Me and my dad," she explained, "I was in a different alt mode then, um, a motorcycle, I think."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Cute," said the human, "I've never seen such a bitty bot before. Do you guys usually start this small?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," laughed Whirl, "But usually we- er, uh, </span>
  <em>
    <span>they</span>
  </em>
  <span> grow up really fast, so like, you know, full grown Cybes in a couple of years. I'm a bit of a slow grower, though- did, uh, did Blades send you my file?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, yeah," Miko handwaved, "I know all about that scraplet stuff."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, good," Whirl sighed, relieved she didn't have to explain. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So that's your dad, then?" Miko pointed at the picture.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah," Whirl nodded, "his name is also Whirl. I'm actually Whirl Jr, but people only say the junior part if we're both in the same room at the same time." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Fun," said Miko, handing back the datapad. "Maybe he can come by and visit once you guys are settled in." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl stiffened, biting her lip, and then turned to put the datapad back on the charger in silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ooh, that was not a good reaction," Miko said, straightening, "Sorry. I've lost people close to me, too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's not dead," she groaned, "He's just- things are just difficult right now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Miko watched her for a moment, squinting, before speaking, "Fair enough. Well, if you need anything, let me know, alright? I'm your operations manager for a reason. Got it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you, Miko," Whirl said, forcing herself to smile. The human have her a sympathetic half smile back, waved, and left. She could hear her heavy bootsteps down the hall towards Hot Shot's room and she turned away from the datapad and sat back down on her berth with a huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He wasn't dead. She was glad he wasn't dead. No matter how big an afthole he might be she was sure she wouldn't ever be glad he was dead. Part of her wanted to call and beg him to explain all of this, but she knew if she did, she was going to cry, and she had </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> moved her. She had enough on her plate trying to start a new job in a new place and she couldn't deal with </span>
  <em>
    <span>all of that</span>
  </em>
  <span> right now. She just hoped he wasn't wallowing </span>
  <em>
    <span>too</span>
  </em>
  <span> badly over this, but- for the first time in her entire life it seemed like he had finally made some friends, and maybe he could bear to wait until she was ready to handle… all of that. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>"Hey!" Hoist ducked, scrambling backwards and out of the way of the palette Whirl was lifting on her crane when it dipped too low, getting dangerously close to him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah! Sorry, Hoist!" she cried, snapping back up. She was getting distracted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You've been off your game all week, Whirl, are you alright?" Hot Shot asked, hovering a ways away with his own palette, sounding concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm- I'm fine, it's nothing," she said stubbornly, "let's just finish moving this stuff." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, Hot Shot's right," said Wedge, directing from the ground, "Let's take a break."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Whirl groaned, and considered ignoring him, but relented, lowering her cargo carefully until it was settled so she could transform and land with a thump and a frustrated groan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's up with you?" asked Wedge, "Is it just the move?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," she said, leaning back against the cargo palette, "I like the new facility. I do."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So what's going on?" asked Hot Shot as he landed, "You're never this moody. You're supposed to be the insufferably optimistic one. Wedge is the moody one."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hey."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean, he's right, Wedge, you are the moody one," Medix commented. Wedge frowned, but relented, seeming to agree.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's- I mean, it's my dad," she sighed, looking to the side, a bit embarrassed, "I know Heatwave hates him but I didn't really know why until… he gave me his old Autopedia page, and like. He's done some really messed up stuff."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hate reading about the war," Hoist said with a shiver, "I'm really glad I was forged after."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's not the stuff he did during the war," she admitted, "I mean, honestly, some of that is pretty shocking, too, but, like, I think I can live with that. It's the stuff he did before the war that's really… I'm really having trouble thinking about."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What did he do?" asked Hot Shot, putting a comforting hand on her arm. She grimaced, shaking her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I mean, I knew he was a cop before the war, but… I mean, he was a </span>
  <em>
    <span>dirty</span>
  </em>
  <span> cop. Like, the really bad kind…" she ran a hand over her head and took a deep invent, "He like, worked for the old Autobot Senate or something, and he like- beat up prisoners and arrested innocent people and took bribes and stuff. Like, all of it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's horrible," said Medix.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"</span>
  <em>
    <span>He</span>
  </em>
  <span> worked for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Senate</span>
  </em>
  <span>?" Wedge asked, sounding confused. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Um, yeah- Optimus Prime apparently like, dragged him into the Senate hall and threw him on the floor and gave a big speech and everything," she said. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That just- I dunno, that just strikes me as kind of strange, I guess," Wedge frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why?" Whirl asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well- I mean… you know." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She cocked her head at him, "No?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He's- I mean… you know. The empurata," Wedge said, awkwardly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, that </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> done by the Senate, wasn't it?" Medix said, tapping his chin in thought, "We did do a chapter on treating empurata victims, their internals are so different up there, you have to be so careful…"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Empurata?" Whirl blinked, "What?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wedge stared at her for a moment, his expression slowly devolving into deeply uncomfortable, "Oh. You don't know what that is, do you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No?" she responded, "What is it?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's… um," Wedge scratched the back of his head, looking away awkwardly, "It's like… a thing, they used to do, before the war… my mentor is cold-constructed, so, it's… I mean, I don't really… I'm not qualified, maybe you should… I dunno. Look it up, I guess."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She blinked at him, confused, then turned to Medix, who immediately shook his head, alarmed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Alright," she said, awkwardly. </span>
</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <span>She had to turn the documentary off halfway. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She couldn't even see the screen through her tears at this point, and frankly, she felt she had gotten the gist of it. She didn't need to know every single crime that would get someone empurated in Old Cybertron. She didn't want to know all the different long term complications that left most victims struggling for basic quality of life millennia later. She got the idea.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was caught between "why didn't he tell me about this" and "no wonder he never told me about this," stuck somewhere in the middle where all she could think was "I can't believe no one ever told me about this." Old Cybertron was all but glanced over in education modules. You got the basics. Maybe no one wanted to talk about it, and she wouldn't blame them. The more she read about it the more angry she became, until a sickening thought crawled into her head and made a home there- "Maybe this place deserved to burn."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Her optics hurt. They felt raw and over oxidised and she wanted to curl up in a ball and vanish. Unlike all the rest of these Cybes, she had </span>
  <em>
    <span>chosen</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be a Transformer. She had willingly joined this race- this race that gleefully engaged in </span>
  <em>
    <span>ritualistic disfigurement</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hadn't even realized there was anything different about him from others. She wondered if real transformers could tell, that something was off, that it wasn't right, or if they all looked at him the same way she did, just another mech with a fairly uncommon build. Did other mechs mentors tell them about this? Was it that taboo to mention? Why hadn't he </span>
  <em>
    <span>told</span>
  </em>
  <span> her?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Humans and Transformers alike, both of her adopted species had such rich histories of violence. Supposedly humans were higher life forms than scraplets and Transformers higher life forms than humans, but she struggled to see the perspective. Thinking about it made her miss the days she was separate, a crowd of supposedly lower life forms- killing to eat, not to revel in suffering, not to sow discord and misery, just to live. Transformers, she thought, were a deeply pompous species.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even still, her frame held steady. She liked her shape. She liked her voice, and her friends. She liked transforming, she liked holding and touching, hearing, seeing, being- it was strange, being a one-thing, but exhilarating in its own way. Exhausting, but worth it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She rubbed her optics again, trying to cycle out the nanites there before she rusted anything. She had a free day tomorrow. Maybe it was time to go visit home and check on him. No news was good news, as it were, so he probably hadn't done anything stupid, at least. It would be nice to hear his side, instead of the dry information from an Autopedia article that had listed crimes without mentioning context. What else was she missing? She was starting to regret having read it at all. She wished she'd just asked him to explain to her </span>
  <em>
    <span>why</span>
  </em>
  <span> Heatwave and everyone else hated him so much. He had never lied to her before. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She sat up and rubbed her optics on her arm one last time, hard, until she was sure she'd worked all the sniffles out and managed to get her voice level again. Whirl opened her comm unit on her forearm and hovered over it for a moment, uncertain. He was still her first speed dial. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She hit call, and he picked up almost immediately. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whirligirl!" The old soldier's voice cried, "Hey! Hi. Hey. How are you? Is everything alright?" </span>
</p><p>
  <span>She resisted the urge to laugh at how desperate he sounded. It wasn't funny. Of course he was, she hadn't talked to him in two weeks. He was used to her calling him to ramble about her day every </span>
  <em>
    <span>night</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm okay," she said, "I wanted… I think I'm ready to talk."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay! Okay, what do you want? Do you want to talk right now? I can come over. Or, um, I think Stormy has a video unit, if you want-"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Can you pick me up at the spacebridge port tomorrow morning? I have a day off," she said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course! Of course, um, is eight, local time okay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's fine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay. Okay, um, I'll see you then. And- and Junior- I know what it says in there and I know what you've heard and I know it's bad, but- I love you, okay? That's still real."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She pulled her knees up to her chest, unable to resist a bit of a smile, "I know, dad. I love you, too." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Phew. Okay. Okay- good. I'll- I'll see you tomorrow, then, Whirligirl." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"See you tomorrow, dad."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Remember when your potential was a promise instead of a regret?</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Whirl had been pacing outside the spacebridge port for about forty five minutes before the right bridge activated, precisely at eight. He kneaded his claws together anxiously while the bridge spun and spat blue-green flickers, before Junior stepped through, optics scanning the platform quickly before she spotted him. Whirl froze, uncertain, trying to gauge how he was supposed to react, and then waved, a little pathetically. She waved back and then turned to talk to the space bridge operator.</p><p>He waited, trying not to fidget and look as nervous as he was until she finished talking and the operator shut down the bridge. He tapped his claws together in front of him, uncertain what to do with himself and desperately not wanting to overstep, and he fluttered his winglets in surprise when she firmly, stubbornly hugged him.</p><p>"You're an idiot," she said, with a huff. </p><p>"Well, yeah, but," Whirl laughed awkwardly, "you already knew that."</p><p>"Come on," she said, pulling away, "It's too nice a day to waste it inside. Let's go somewhere nice."</p><p>"Oh! Uh, like where?" </p><p>Little Whirl looked about for a moment in thought, as if she might see a tourist destination on the edge of the platform, "The Mithril sea is right here, there's gotta be a nice park or something." </p><p>"There's, uh- I mean, I know one, but it's-" Whirl paused, "Actually, yeah, that's perfect. Come on, Earth's gravity sucks for flying, I bet you could use the fresh air through your rotors."</p><p>"You have no idea," she sighed, and waited for him to transform and lift off before she followed suit, leaving the space bridge port and everyone on it behind. </p><p>The sun was warm and the air light, making the short trip to Wrecker Memorial Park a pleasant one, and Whirl Sr landed in the designated helipad area and stepped to the side. She took the opportunity to show off, transforming mid air and landing on her pedes with a flourish, a clean transformation without any cheating. Her father might not have had a face, a feature she was suddenly finding herself unable to stop thinking about, but it was easy for her to tell he was smiling. </p><p>He nodded at a picnic table near the shoreline and she made her way to it, dusting off the bench before she sat down. </p><p>"Have you been keeping up with your supplements?" he asked, rummaging about in his cockpit, "I, uh, I brought you a cube in case you weren't." He pulled out a cube of enriched metallica and offered it to her uncertainly as he sat down on the other side.</p><p>"I have been, but thank you," she said, taking it and holding it in her hands, unopened. She was silent for a moment, feeling the breeze against her armour plating, cycling through all the different things she'd wanted to say.</p><p>"You didn't tell me a lot of stuff," she started, "especially about before the war."</p><p>Whirl Sr waited a moment before responding, uncertain if she was finished and that was his cue to speak or not, "There ain't much good to tell."</p><p>She frowned, turning the cube in her hands idly, "You didn't tell me about…" she felt awkward, suddenly, bringing it up, caught between knowing it was rude and how desperately she wanted to talk about it, "You didn't tell me about empurata."</p><p>His winglets snapped back and he straightened his spinal strut before he sank back down, looking away uncomfortably, "Ah. No, I really didn't wanna tell you about that."</p><p>"Why not?"</p><p>"Did you <em> want </em> to know about it? It's not- it's not happy stuff. It ain't your job to feel bad for me and it ain't done no more. It ain't a thing you need to worry about," he shook his head, "It ain't a thing you need living in your head."</p><p>"I wish you had told me," she said. </p><p>"Well, then, I guess I wish I'd told you," Whirl said, lamely, "I'm kind of making it up as I go along though. I thought I was doing you right by not tellin' you."</p><p>"I'm not mad at you for not telling me about that," she said, "I just wish you had."</p><p>"Well… I guess I'm telling you now, then, even if it's late," Whirl Sr shrugged and leaned forward on the table, "They used to do that, before the war. It was a punishment, you know, for stepping out of line. Real ancient ritual type stuff. The point was to take the stuff that makes you an individual, and make you into a- a- hang on, there's an Earth word, I wrote it down. Uh, a pariah. So that anybody who looked at you would know you did something wrong. Once the war started law sort of went out the window, and most folk got new parts and stuff, but- before that you like- you legally weren't allowed to replace them."</p><p>"That's horrible," she murmured, "that's <em> horrible</em>. How did they get away with doing that to people? How could it be <em> illegal </em> to fix yourself?"</p><p>"...Well," he said, fidgeting with his claws on the table, picking at paint chips, "It was legal. I mean, it was the law. You got arrested and then they did it and there wasn't nothin' you could do about it."</p><p>"What's the point of law if- if <em> that's </em> the kind of thing that's legal? How could no one see how wrong it was? How could anyone enforce something so unjust?"</p><p>Whirl was silent for a few seconds. "I… ain't the person to ask that. I don't got the answers."</p><p>"Did you enforce it?" she prompted.</p><p>"Arrest people for empurata crimes?"</p><p>"Yeah."</p><p>"Yes."</p><p>She frowned, hiking her shoulders up, "Didn't you know it was wrong?"</p><p>"I did."</p><p>"Then why did you <em> do </em> it?" She tightened her grip on her cube, "If you knew it was wrong, why did you <em> do </em> it?" </p><p>"I mean, honest answer, kiddo?" he asked in earnest, opening his claws outward, "Back then, that's what you <em> did</em>. You did what you were told, or you got killed. I wasn't no older than you then and- well. I didn't wanna die." </p><p>There was a long moment of increasingly awkward silence, "I'm caught. On one hand, that seems like a pretty good reason. On the other hand, aren't we supposed to be better than that? Shouldn't we be firm in doing the right thing? Even if it's dangerous? Morally?"</p><p>"You might be right," Whirl sighed, "Though I wouldn't exactly have been the martyr that started a movement like Megatron was. I was a nobody. Practically an Empty. I ain't trying to say I didn't do nothing wrong or that I should be excused for shit I did just cuz I was in a bad way about it, but- that's the truth, anyway. That's just what it was, for good or bad. If it's any consolation," he laughed, awkwardly, "I technically served my time for that one. By the time I got out of prison Optimus was the new Prime. Like, I missed Zeta entirely! So, uh, due process, I guess."</p><p>She didn't laugh. </p><p>"Right," he sighed, "...I used to make clocks, you know."</p><p>"I know," she said, "You still do."</p><p>"Not like I used to. Used to be great at it. Back then that was a problem, you know. I wasn't a clock, I wasn't clock fixin' tools. I was a copter, so obviously, it was my destiny to do copter stuff and nothin' else. So me making clocks was a problem. Pissed off the wrong people, they burned down my old shop and my habblock along with it, and then, without any legit way to make money- I fell in with a rough crowd."</p><p>"Was this after-"</p><p>"No, this was before they got my hands. I spent awhile doing some rougher stuff, but, it was gettin' tougher and tougher to make ends meet. You figure once you hit rock bottom, once you're willing to do the worst stuff you can think of to survive, it will be easy. The only thing standing between you and doing it is being willing to do it, right?" He sighed. "Turns out that it's more like by the time you hit rock bottom, a dozen people have got there before you and started digging. No one wants to starve. You decide you're willing to do it, but it's too late now and there's a whole bunch of people twice as willing and twice as good as you are at it. But, I had something most other folk didn't, and that was a high rated alt mode. I wasn't just another drill. I was flight academy material. So I went crawling back to the Senate. The jobs weren't bad at first, you know, they start you off light. Bodyguard stuff here, courier work there."</p><p>Whirl was silent. Junior watched him for a moment, internalizing the words, before she prompted him to continue, "And then?"</p><p>"And then they ask you to do something you don't wanna do," he sighed, shifting to lean his helm on his claw and an elbow against the table, "For me it was to go round up some Empties- uh, poor folk- for them to vanish. Dunno what they were gonna do with them, but, I knew it wasn't good. So, I said no. And, thus." He waved a claw, illustrating his point in silence. </p><p>"<em>That's </em> why they took your hands?" She gasped, "That's not even a crime! That's the <em> opposite </em> of a crime!"</p><p>"Yeah, well, the law ain't always about helping folk that aren't at the top," Whirl mumbled, optic stubbornly fixed toward the sea and away from her, "So that's how it was. Do what we say or lose somethin' else. So I did what they said." </p><p>"That's fucked up," she said, her uncharacteristic harshness drawing his attention back to her, "That's horrible. Why did you ever come back here?"</p><p>"Come back where?"</p><p>"Here!" she gestured around, "Cybertron."</p><p>Whirl looked around, as if he might find the answer, "It's home, I guess."</p><p>Junior turned the cube in her hands again, grimacing. "It's horrible…"</p><p>"Now- you see, this is why I didn't want to tell you all this stuff-" Whirl Sr groaned, "I don't want you thinkin' the world is a horrible place. You gotta live in it."</p><p>"But that's why you <em> have </em> to tell me this stuff!" Whirl Jr exclaimed, "I <em> do </em> have to live in it! I want to know the truth about the world! I want to know the world I'm living in for what it is!"</p><p>"I guess we're different, then," Whirl sighed, "Alright. What else do you need?" </p><p>Junior fidgeted a bit with her cube, thinking, shifted her position on the bench and pulled her legs up beneath her. "Wreckers stuff. It says you tried to kill your commanding officer? And then there's Rotorstorm-"</p><p>She paused when he hissed, rubbing his temple with one pincer.</p><p>"To be honest I haven't managed to think of a good way to explain the second one," he huffed, unable to hide his frustration, "The first one is easier. Frankly I never liked how they reported that. He was in a coma. He wasn't supposed to wake up. It was war time and resources were limited, finite, short supply, specially in deep space on our own like we was, and Springer hated the idea of being a liability. I figured- I figured he would hate to be livin' like the that, a burden eating through our stock never to recover. I figured he would hate it cuz I woulda hated it. We was Wreckers, our whole shtick was going down in a blaze of glory, not fizzling out in bed… war does weird shit to your brain and in my head all I could think was how nobody else would be able to live with themselves if they pulled the plug on him, but I could. I was real good at compartmentalizin', you know, I had figured out how to block out any feeling that wasn't angry, so I figured I would do what had to be done so nobody else would have to do it." Whirl paused, shrugged. "He woke up four years later. Never spoke to me again, though. I was already on his bad side, even before that. But, uh… I guess I can't really blame him for that. Considerin'."</p><p>"Rotorstorm?"</p><p>"I won't give you any excuses for that," he mumbled, "I wasn't right in the head. Honestly, I didn't really even <em> start </em> getting righter in the head until after the war was over, and I'm like- I mean honestly, I don't even know if I am <em> now.</em>" </p><p>"Hm," she hummed, thinking. "Did you really get voted twice likely to defect? Was that like- was that a real <em> poll</em>?"</p><p>Whirl tittered with laughter despite himself, before shaking his head, "Uh, that was, um- it's sort of a joke, actually, it's not a real poll anyone did, it was more like- the joke was that everyone knew if I ever left the Autobots I was a dead mech, either Autobot high command would get me, or the cons, or any number of NAILS I'd pissed off, so defecting would be suicide. The joke was that, uh- the joke was that I was self-destructive."</p><p>Little Whirl stared at him in silence for a few seconds and he started to wonder if he should add an addendum or something. "That was a <em> joke</em>?" she asked, finally, "That was supposed to be <em> funny</em>?"</p><p>"Uh… wartime humour, I guess."</p><p>"That's not funny," she said, bristling, tightening her hands on her cube, "That's terrible! That's horrible, that's so cruel, that's-" she had to break her thought, sniffling, rubbing her optics on her arm. </p><p>"Hey-" Whirl Sr started, "Hey, none of that, now-"</p><p>"All of that!" she argued, even though it didn't make much sense, "It's sad! It's worth being sad over! I wanna be sad about it!" She wiped her optics again against the heel of her wrist, "I don't get it. I can't wrap my mind around any of it. It's all so terrible and dark and I don't understand how Cybertron could have been such a cruel and awful place and people still come back to it, still want to live here!" </p><p>"I don't know anyone else, but," Whirl shrugged, "I guess I like the idea of seeing Cybertron nicer. It is nicer now. It's not perfect, but, it's nicer. I didn't think I'd ever see it like this. I honestly never thought I would see the end of the war at all. And! And, better yet, I get to show it to you!" He brightened, "I got to raise you in a better Cybertron than I was forged into! I'm pretty into that."</p><p>She leaned on one hand, face screwed up in thought and staring at the cube in her hand. "Is it better? Or is it just different? Is it going to get bad again?"</p><p>"Well- not if you have anything to say about it, huh?" </p><p>She turned up to look at him, expression asking him wordlessly to elaborate.</p><p>"Well, you know. Next generation, and all. And you're doing the Earth liason thing! It's a big cool job! And I- nah, kiddo, I ain't never gonna trust coppers or the institution of it at all but. I trust you. I trust I raised you better than me. I trust if you get put into a situation where it's do what they say or die-" he paused, "I taught you to kill the motherfuckers first." </p><p>She burst with startled laughter despite herself, "Please don't get into Earth swears, dad, they sound so weird."</p><p>"Yeah, but, they're so <em> aggressive</em>," he said, shaking one claw, "Good for emphasis."</p><p>"Well, I can't argue you didn't teach me that," she chuckled, rubbing the back of her helm, "More importantly, I guess you taught me to ask for help if I don't feel like I have any choices."</p><p>"Good. That's better. Then I'll kill 'em for you," he said, kicking his pedes under the table. </p><p>"You're terrible," she said, but she was smiling. "I'm still… honestly, I'm still really struggling, thinking about it. All of it. I don't know how to fit it all in my moral values."</p><p>"I ain't rushing you," Whirl said, trying to sound more gentle than his old voicebox would likely let him, "If you need more space, or time- it's okay. It'll be okay. Like I said, I'm figuring it out as I go, but- I'll do whatever you think I should."</p><p>"I don't really want that," she sighed, laying down on her arms, "I don't really know what I want. I want things to be simple."</p><p>"I'd fix that too if I could."</p><p>"<em>You </em>are a control freak," she snorted. </p><p>"Aw, shucks, you don't gotta compliment me like that."</p><p>Whirl Jr rolled her optics at him. "Oh… how is school going, by the way? We haven't spoken since you started."</p><p>"It's alright!" Whirl Sr shrugged, "I started tutoring with a friend of Waspinator's, a little catformer dude. I ain't flunked out yet."</p><p>"If you managed to flunk out in two weeks that would have to be some kind of record."</p><p>"I have set many an impressive record in my time, I'll have you know."</p><p>"Are you gonna get that repaint?" she asked.</p><p>"Oh! You did see that, then!" Whirl fluttered his winglets, "I dunno. Maybe. Not until I actually like, am sure I'm gonna finish. Can you imagine getting painted medic colours and then flunking out of medical school? Primus."</p><p>"I think it looks nice," she said firmly, "maybe help you feel like you're less out of place." </p><p>"Hey, what did I tell you about worrying about me, huh?" he said, waggling a claw at her.</p><p>"Aw, c'mon, Dad, if I don't worry about you, who will? Your conjunxes? Your friends at the bar? Your old war buddies?"</p><p>"Yes," he confirmed, snorting at her teasing, "My therapist says I have built a stable support structure, I'll have you know. You got no excuse now."</p><p>"Guess not," she rolled her optics, "Are the twins at home?"</p><p>"Oh, yeah, Teeg is watching 'em."</p><p>"Alright, then," Junior said, tossing the cube in the air and clapping her hands around it, absorbing the whole thing in one quick motion, "Let's go flying before it gets too hot out. It's too nice a day to waste. I brought some fun souvenirs for Echo and Reverb from Japan." </p><p>"Is that- is that it, then?" Whirl asked, hesitantly, "Are we okay?"</p><p>"That's it for now," she said, standing up, "I mean… I'll probably want to talk about it again, but- I think we're okay. You're still my dad."</p><p>Whirl lost his very carefully maintained composure and grabbed her from across the table for a bear hug, pulling her tight against his frame while she laughed at his overenthusiasm. </p><p>"Whatever you need from me," he said, "I choose you over my own bullshit every time, kiddo." </p><p>"I know- agh, let me go, geez," she snorted, pushing back to get her pedes back on the ground, "I know."</p><p>"Whatcha get the boys then, huh?" </p><p>"Comics, mostly," she said, opening a subspace compartment to flip through them, "But I got one of those rubber dog toys for Reverb."</p><p>"Oh, thank Primus," Whirl laughed, "He chews more than <em> you </em> did."</p><p>"Come on," she said, snapping the compartment closed and taking a running head start to transform, "Race you!" </p><p>"No fair! Hey, what happened to be bein' better than me or whatever, ya little cheater? Get back here!" </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>[clutches fist] fami ly.... </p><p>My own dad is a... Complex and difficult man, but like, he's still my dad. Reminds me of hard conversations I had with him, more about ways he failed me, and if he could have done better or if it was just... A dude who shouldn't have been a dad doing his best and his best not being good enough, if that makes sense. Whirligirl is a good kid and she's satisfied that whatever he might have been, he's a better person now, and she's better for it, and maybe people deserve the chance to change. Though, she's probably going to be a little more sympathetic to people who hate him after this... Anyway we will pick up with Whirl's medical training in the next one dabs</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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